A pure white ceiling. Brightly shining lights, a cool breeze drifting in through the window, and peaceful birdsong.
“-You’re awake!”
When he came to his senses again at the sound of a woman’s voice, he was lying on a bed in the academy’s infirmary.
“-What about the villain?”
The first thing he asked in a cracked voice the moment he woke was the whereabouts of the villain who had reduced him to this state. There were many things he wanted to ask, but the most important matter came first: whether or not the boss who was supposed to appear later was still alive.
If all his suffering had ended as nothing more than a futile struggle, if everything he had done had been meaningless—then from now on, he would have to act on the assumption that this world would flow exactly according to the game’s story.
But—
“She was captured.”
“...Haha.”
Captured. The instant he realized that single word meant the situation had already been settled, he laughed.
The original story had been twisted.
A villain who was supposed to appear in the future leading a massive army, who had done nothing but fire bombardments from afar in the most troublesome way imaginable, a boss who should have taken countless lives—had been captured before the original story even began. The lives that should have been lost because of her could now survive, and since the information within the academy had not leaked out, the villains’ invasion would surely face difficulties.
He had not met his end as a mere mid-boss, and he was still breathing. He, who had been an extra, had changed a bleak future.
To him, that was extremely welcome news. Even someone as weak as him, even an extra who could not fight properly, had been able to change the future—that became a chance for him, who had been drowning in self-loathing after being disappointed in his own incompetence, to recover some of his self-worth.
“-Teacher. How many days was I asleep?”
“One week.”
One week. Short, if one called it short; long enough, if one called it long. The fact that he had been able to wake despite clearly having his chest pierced was probably thanks to the academy’s health teacher miraculously saving him with her ability.
“...Are you all right? Your arm—”
But no matter how excellent a medical hero she was, she could not reattach an arm that had disappeared. In fact, the place where his right arm should have been was empty, and his sleeve drooped limply.
“I’m all right.”
Even so, he was still smiling.
Even before, his legs had been ruined, leaving him unable to walk. Compared to not being able to use both legs, losing a single arm was a far better situation. Of course, either way was inconvenient—but this world was one where prosthetic arms could be made easily enough, and an arm like this could be replaced at any time.
A single arm was a price he could easily pay for changing fate. It was not as if he had lost his life.
“What about the others?”
And so, he decided to be satisfied with the fact that the result had been good, and, basking in a sense of victory, asked after the others.
His childhood friend Jihyeon, the protagonist of the game, and his classmates who were the other heroines. And the hero teachers who taught them. Were they safe?
Normally, he would have asked that first, but only after he had relaxed did he ask the teacher, who was looking at him with a bright smile.
It was the order of questions he had come up with after thinking it through in his own way. If even one of them had died, or been severely injured, there was no way such a heartfelt smile could appear—he truly believed that.
“...Ah, you mean the others? Do you want to go see them?”
Even though he knew what kind of world this was. Even though he already knew it was a world where a single person could die easily—he had truly felt relieved and thought that way.
“...Be careful. It could be dangerous if you accidentally touch something.”
Only when he went somewhere other than the hospital room he had been in did he realize just how foolish that thought had been.
Beep, beep—
An intensive care unit filled with countless medical machines. The mechanical sounds echoing from them. And numerous medical beds, with students lying there as if asleep, their eyes still closed.
He stood before his childhood friend and froze in place, unable to say a word.
Her entire body was wrapped in bandages. A respirator was attached to her mouth, and an IV was inserted into her arm. An entire week had clearly passed, and the health teacher should have possessed remarkable skill, yet the bandages were still stained red with blood. Most of all, she still had not regained consciousness.
“All of them are seriously injured. It was truly dangerous. Still, I suppose their situation is better than yours, since you lost an arm—”
He let the teacher’s words go in one ear and out the other, still standing there blankly.
He keenly realized that he had been a complete idiot for capturing a boss who was supposed to appear in the latter half and hoping that everyone would be safe. He also realized, as an added blow, that the expression the teacher had been wearing until now was one of relief simply because at least he had regained consciousness.
Perhaps, if he had thought about it just a little, it was an outcome he could have anticipated.
She was a boss who had hidden her identity. One of the strongest villains, responsible for an entire chapter in the game. In the game’s story, the principal had noticed and attacked her, injuring her, but even so, the fact that she was a boss meant to be encountered near the very end of the story did not change.
And yet, the protagonist, who had not yet properly grown, the heroines, and his childhood friend now lying unconscious—there was no way they could capture that villain without suffering a single injury.
Originally, once she had achieved her objective, she had been fated to run away without looking back. But after he injured her, his childhood friend charged in, and the battle began—
“...What about Teacher Kang Hanseong?”
“......”
One teacher who had held an important role had died, and the other students and heroes had ended up like this.
It was, quite literally, the butterfly effect. The thing he had done in hopes of being helpful had, in the end, put her and everyone else in even greater danger. The moment he realized that, he clenched his teeth.
“Don’t make that face.”
How could he not make this face? If he had died in that place, the original story would not have been twisted to this extent, and his friends might not have been injured like this. Or if he had just been a little stronger—he could have overcome this crisis together with them, and perhaps a slightly better ending might have come about.
“If it hadn’t been for you, if it hadn’t been for everyone—we might have let the villain get away.”
And yet, all he heard was a voice praising him as a hero.
Was this right? Students and heroes had collapsed, and even one teacher had died—and yet he was being praised. Was this situation truly correct?
“When you become a hero, you’ll have to go through things like this often. The damage is too great to simply call it prevention—but still, steel your heart.”
Just because this was a world with heroes and villains, just because it was a world where heroes met deaths like this, was it truly right for people to remain this indifferent?
“...I’ll step out for a bit, so leave whenever you want.”
No. Absolutely not. A world like this was by no means a proper world.
He felt nauseous. The result of doing what was right, the result of struggling desperately to cling to life—had left the childhood friend most precious to him unconscious. He had been glad that he had protected the lives of others, but in the end, he had failed to protect the people he should have protected—no, there was no need even to say he had failed to protect them.
In the end, he was nothing but an extra.
He was only someone to be protected. The idea of him protecting those stronger than himself made no sense.
“...I’m sorry.”
He apologized. Bowing his head to his childhood friend, who could not even hear his words yet, he clenched his fist tightly and shed tears.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
Then, feeling his helplessness, he cried out. What was he supposed to do? No matter how much he thought about it, no answer came.
He was endlessly powerless. A mere extra had no strength to change the future. He could not help them; if anything, it would be fortunate if he did not get in their way.
He certainly had knowledge of the future. But that knowledge was useless. If anything, it might have been that very knowledge that had caused everything to go wrong.
Nor did he have the option of telling others, those with power, about what he knew. The note he had secretly given the protagonist’s group had already been made as if it had never existed, and even when he tried to speak it aloud, the words physically would not come out.
Was it the penalty he received for being possessed into the world of a game? If they were going to give him a penalty like this, they should at least have given him power instead—but thinking that changed nothing now. He had already been possessed, and he did not even know why he had been possessed in the first place.
Then should he eliminate the other villains in advance? That was impossible.
To begin with, he lacked the strength, but as a student attending the academy, he was not in a position to wander around outside as he pleased. Nor was dropping out going to solve anything. This was a world where non-heroes catching villains was an illegal act. In a world where it became a social issue if a hero killed a villain, he could not even imagine what kind of punishment a civilian would receive for capturing one—
“...Ah.”
At the thought that flashed through his mind, his eyes widened.